


The Profiling of Killers and Canines

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1526585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Please, please, PLEASE don’t profile me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Profiling of Killers and Canines

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Flashbacks and memories of a violent trauma could be a trigger for certain readers. There is no graphic violence in this story but I thought it might warrant a warning anyway.
> 
> Too often I feel that canon never properly deals with the aftermath of traumas these agents go through, personally and what they deal with in the job (which can sometime collide). This Erin has been in my head for a while lately, I was glad she finally felt comfortable enough to talk.

** March, 2014 **

He woke and the bed beside him was empty. This wasn’t the first time but something in Dave’s stomach churned. Something was off, it had been for a while, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He shook off sleep and sat up on his elbows. The bathroom light was out; the entire room was still dark. 

Mudgie was still in bed with him so that meant everyone was in and accounted for. Scruff was gone, it must have been her turn to take care of Mommy. The dynamics of the Rossi-Strauss canines fascinated Dave. He'd been studying human behavior for over three decades but these dogs constantly made him wonder. 

Mudgie was very attached to Erin. He had been since way before she actually became a dog person. It was strange to see him yield, or even defer, to Scruff as she’d only been with them for a five weeks. The mutt did the same in kind, always respecting Mudgie’s position as head dog. Erin loved them both wholly and unabashedly. It was something Dave was sure he'd never see.

After covering his mouth to yawn, Dave climbed out of bed. Mudgie opened just one eye but was quickly uninterested. Dave left the bedroom, checking next door. Neither Erin nor Scruff were in her room. He walked to the end of the hallway and down the back stairs to the kitchen. 

Only one light was on, creating a dim and dreary atmosphere. He could hear the rain falling hard outside on the deck but the sliding glass door was closed and locked. The light in the den was an immediate giveaway. Dave was sure he’d turned out most of the lights before locking up for the night. He found his wife lying on the couch. 

She wasn’t asleep. Dave had seen her body at rest a million times and that wasn’t it. Scruff lay on the inside of the couch. Half of her body was across Erin’s torso and the other half rested on the cushion. Erin had her hand on Scruff’s head but wasn’t petting her. Despite the calm of the scene, Dave could taste the uneasiness in the air.

“Baby, you…?”

Erin didn’t scream but she jumped out of her skin. She also nearly fell from the couch. Scruff barked a few times, calming down when she realized it was Dave. Within 90 seconds Mudgie was in the den too. He let out a preemptive bark, seeming confused that nothing was really happening. 

Dave would’ve laughed except nothing about it was quite funny. When things like this were happening at 4 in the morning that was no laughing matter. Mudgie jumped up on the couch where Erin was now sitting up with Scruff. He nuzzled against her and she petted the retriever’s head.

“Well,” she smirked. “It doesn’t get much more Abbott and Costello than that.”

“I didn’t mean for it to go that way.” Dave sat down in the chair. Suddenly he was exhausted. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed. I came to check on you.”

“I just…” Erin’s voice faded and she didn’t pick it back up.

“I've woken up on a lot of nights and you weren’t in bed.”

“It’s the same for me, David. Except when I wake up in the morning you're still not there.”

Ouch. He was sure that Erin wasn’t trying to pick a fight. The comment stung just the same. He was a big boy so Dave would shake it off and move on. When he reached for her shoulder, Erin flinched.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered.

He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to apologize. Dave already knew that wasn’t the right thing to say. He just wasn’t quite sure what was.

“Have you talked to Dr. Howard about this?” he asked.

“Yes and no. Mostly no.”

“Do you think that’s something she needs to know?”

“Of course I do.” Erin’s tone was low but exasperated. She was tired of talking, even if sometimes she was only talking to herself. “I'm not sure how to put it into words. I'm not even sure what I'm feeling. Most of the time I'm just numb…going through the motions.”

“Some of this is PTSD, Erin.” Dave said. “It’s something your doctor needs to know about.”

“There are people in this world who really suffer from that. They suffer and can't get the help they need. I don’t need a designer diagnosis.”

“You think because you weren’t in a war zone that you can't have PTSD? It’s post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“I know what it stands for.” She said.

“And in our line of work you should know that many victims suffer from it to varying degrees. You’ve been through a trauma. You survived, but sometimes that’s the easiest part.”

“Please, please, PLEASE don’t profile me. Don’t do my victimology or pick me apart as if you're out in the field on a case.”

“I'm not.” Dave shook his head. He would never tell her that her face, and pictures of her after the incident, were up on their board in the BAU when the case was still open. Erin would never stop thinking about that. Dave knew it was difficult for him to stop. “It’s not a profile, just an observation. You told me a long time not to profile you and I promised I wouldn’t. You added it to our wedding vows…that’s how seriously you took it. I do the same. Can I ask a question?”

“Yes.” Erin nodded. 

She didn’t want him asking questions. She wished he was still asleep and she was alone with the dog. Erin had known Dave for a long time; an inquiry could turn into an interrogation faster than either of them could control it. She took a deep breath and tried to meet his gaze. She knew he was worried. Erin would give him just a little rope, hoping he didn’t use it to hang himself.

“How long have you been having nightmares?”

“They started in the hospital. In the beginning they were much more than that. They were terrifying and I couldn’t wake up. The doctor said they were night terrors, typical after what happened to me. It might sound crazy but there were nights when that room, that bed, felt like a prison. 

“I would wake up in a cold sweat, unable to move. It felt like…it felt like he was still on top of me.” Erin tried to take a deep breath. She put her hand on her chest, tried to stop feeling like she was drowning. Dave reached for her but decided not to go there. For that she was grateful. “His hand was over my mouth and I couldn’t breathe. I was terrified. I was absolutely terrified.”

“I know you were. I was supposed to be there and I wasn’t. I know it’s not about me, but I have to live with that. I have to live with knowing I could’ve been there to stop him from hurting you.”

“He could’ve killed both of us. You're not Superman, David.”

“No, but my head is a bit harder than yours.”

“Well that’s true.” Erin smiled some.

“We can sleep with the lamp on if the darkness bothers you.” Dave said. “You don’t have to be worried about asking me to accommodate. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“I'm not entirely sure a lamp is all I need. Lately on the couch I can just fall asleep easier. It’s not a bedroom. Those four walls, that bed…I'm right back there.”

“It’s really late.” Dave stood up. “I’ll let you try to salvage some rest.”

Pushing her any further tonight was not a good idea. This situation wasn’t easy on any of them. The BAU had been stalked and taunted; people lost their lives. But Dave never let himself forget that Erin and Alex were the real targets. John Curtis tried to wipe them both from existence. Both had stared death in the face and death blinked.

“Will you stay?” she asked. “Sometimes I just want you to hold me. I have no idea if it’s going to be comforting or not. We can try.”

“Of course I’ll stay. This is a great couch; it’s nice and wide. The four of us might be a squeeze but I'm up for that if you are.”

“The dogs aren't going to leave me.” Erin said. Mudgie was down on the empty end of the large sectional couch. Scruff was still right beside her. “For that I'm eternally grateful.”

“I think we can manage.”

Smiling, Dave held his hand out. His wife took it and let him pull her from the couch. Then he lay down, pulling the afghan up and over him. When he held out his hand again, Erin climbed under it with him. He was the big spoon and she was the little one. At first Scruff was slightly confused as to where to go. Soon she carved out a tiny space inside the curve of Erin. It was a bit of a squeeze but the mutt could handle it.

“Am I holding on too tight?” Dave asked.

Erin shook her head. He'd wrapped his arm protectively around her chest. She held onto his arm like the protective bar on a roller coaster. Eventually the nausea would pass.

“Don’t let go.” She whispered.

Sighing, Erin let her body relax on his. She was afraid to close her eyes; afraid to be alone with that monster. It seemed that the more time that went by the worse the dreams got. She hadn’t told anyone what happened in the hotel room, not even her psychiatrist. 

The police knew bits and pieces and so did Dr. Howard. Erin knew she’d had to let it go or it would poison her from the inside out. That was exactly what John Curtis tried to do. He’d nearly succeeded.

Dave was supposed to be there. She was going to take a long bubble bath and he would join her. One night of passion in New York. She ended up falling asleep waiting for him. Erin woke with a start; someone was on top of her. 

Erin’s mouth was covered so she couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t Dave. Dread filled her stomach and throat like bile when the realization hit that it wasn’t Dave. He wouldn’t play this kind of trick on her. This was a violation of her personal space, which Erin took very seriously. That’s when the fighting began. 

He only had use of one hand, the other was over her mouth, so she got in some good hits. But he was so angry. He was spitting hateful and threatening words at her. When the lamp came on, Erin squinted against the harsh light. The temporary blindness meant she couldn’t see his face. His voice was dark; thick with contempt and something Erin barely recognized.

“It’s time to get up. Get up, bitch.”

He yanked her out of bed with the strength of Samson. Erin stumbled off the bed and onto the floor. She whimpered in pain, struggling but failing to get away from him.

“You don’t even know what pain is.” He pulled her hair so hard Erin was sure it would come out at the root. He wanted her to look into his eyes, she needed to see his face while he exacted his revenge.

Erin didn’t know who the man was and she didn’t care. He made no attempt to conceal his face, which only meant one thing. The plan was for Erin not to make it out of that hotel room. In that moment she knew that she would have to fight harder than she ever had in life. If that didn’t work, Erin planned to die with dignity. The battle would begin right now.

“Stop!”

She probably didn’t say that aloud since Dave was still asleep behind her. Erin shivered; the room was suddenly cold. Scruff crawled up closer and cuddled near her chest. She wanted to get up, wanted Dave to get off of her. Instead Erin started taking deep breaths. 

She inhaled through her nose and exhaled through her mouth. Rubbing Scruff’s head in time with her breathing eventually slowed Erin’s heartbeat. She still didn’t feel quite comfortable lying down. She was gentle in getting Scruff to jump down from the couch. Erin slipped out of Dave’s embrace and moved down to the bottom of the couch near where Mudgie slept. 

Pulling her knees into her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and buried her face in her thighs. Erin couldn’t scream, she couldn’t cry, so she sat there and just rocked. She’d been through a trauma. It happened ten months ago but considering the violent nature and that Erin nearly died, just moving on from it wasn’t going to be easy. Not to mention that whatever the hell this was with Curtis went back over a decade. 

Erin had been through her own share of struggles over that time. Meanwhile someone had been quietly and expertly plotting her demise. How long had he been watching her? How close had she come to him on multiple occasions and not even known it? How had he managed to hide his psychosis well enough to make it to the most restricted halls of the DOJ?

She got up from the couch altogether. She only wanted to do one thing and though Erin felt a twinge of guilt about it, she was going to do it anyway. As she walked upstairs to the bedroom, both dogs followed her. They left Dave asleep on the couch. He would probably wake up alone again. 

In the master bedroom, Erin grabbed her phone and immediately left. She went to her own bedroom, sat down on the bed, and dialed a number. It was 5:23 in the morning…God forgive her. And she hoped he did too.

“Kiddo, what's wrong?” Kirk answered the phone. He only sounded slightly drowsy.

“I'm so sorry to wake you. I'm really sorry.”

“Are you alright?” Kirk asked. “I don’t care about you waking me, I only care that you're alright.”

“I'm not alright. I want to be alright, some days I'm alright, but I'm not alright.”

“You want to talk about it?” 

Just because she called him at the ass crack of dawn didn’t mean that she did. This wasn’t the first phone call of this nature he'd received over his thirty something year relationship with Erin. Sometimes she wanted him to listen but sometimes she actually wanted him to talk. Hearing about Kirk’s life would make her forget about the insanity of her own.

“I don’t know. Yes…sometimes. I'm so damn angry, Kirk. I try not to be angry and that only makes me angrier. My mind keeps trying to go back in time, trying to remember what I did to set him off. Our relationship was contentious from the start but was it so bad that he had to kill me. What could’ve possibly happened between us that the only solution was to kill me?”

“You did nothing. Do you hear me, kiddo? John Curtis was a psychopath. He let his anger simmer for over a decade and then he unleashed it on you and Alex Blake. Not to mention the countless other victims he killed just trying to get your attention. People like him don’t need an excuse but they often find one. You were the one he chose. That doesn’t reflect on you; it reflects on him.”

“He almost killed me.” Erin held back the tears. “On that park bench, in Aaron’s arms, I thought my life was ending.”

“You're still here.” Kirk said gently. “You're still here and you're still fighting. You're going to keep fighting because that’s what people do.”

“What if I can't carry the load? I'm carrying a lot right now.”

“Then you put it down for a little while. There are people who love you, they're willing to carry it a little bit of the way. Some of us need the exercise.”

“Can you tell me a story?” Erin asked. She needed to sleep. Her eyelids felt so heavy but she was afraid. She didn’t want to see Curtis in her dreams tonight. Erin sighed as she curled up on the bed with the dogs close by.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost shot Jason?” Kirk asked. “That story shouldn’t be as funny as it is.”

“Is that the Tulsa story? Because nothing about the Tulsa story should be funny but one time when you told it, wine came out of my nose.”

“Oh no, but that one is a classic.” He laughed some. “When I almost shot him we were in L.A. Jason was fresh out of the Academy and I took him with me to investigate some bank robberies going bad out there. I swear this is funny…I think this might be one of my best.”

***


End file.
